Allure
by nikkitagq
Summary: What happenes when people you know are not who you think they are? What would you do to fulfil your duty, serve your country and not lie to the person you love? Love, drama, action and lots of mystery in this drama crime buster. Many pairings.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of King Arthur. This is my own original creation based on a thought that came to mind a _long_ time ago.

**Author Welcome:**

Hello Readers,

I'm so excited to have finished the first chapter of this story. It's been racking my brains since the middle of 'La Tortura' and I had to finish it. It is based in England and on a bunch of people who have different lives and somehow get tangled together by their work. Sounds bad but read the chapter and you'll get the gist. This is a fun fantasy that I have really been enjoying writing.

I love constructive criticism and reviews. It is an alternate universe story based in today's date, 2005. Hope you enjoy it.

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**Introduction**

Vanora pulled her car into the parking lot and pulled on the handbrake. In the passenger seat, her best friend Ania de Laurent sat silently staring blindly at the people walking on the busy footpath.

"Remind me," she said quietly. "Why are we here again?"

Vanora leaned her head on the steering wheel and gave a short laugh. She had been this way ever since they decided to return to the village. At first she was against it, for many understandable reasons but all the way, the three and a half hour drive to the village Ania questioned why they were coming.

"Because your grandmother just died," Vanora said, for the third time that day. "It's her funeral and we _know_ she would want you there."

"Old bat," Ania said under her breath as she opened the door to Vanora's BMW fourwheel drive.

Vanora scoffed and closed her door with a loud 'thud' before pressing the button on her car keys to open the boot. "She was your nonna Ania."

"So," said the brunette tartly. "She did nothing but mock, insult, and question me while she was alive. Let's face it Van, the woman hated me."

Vanora closed the door of the boot closed and slug her bag over her shoulder. "We can do this Ania. Three days tops and then we are back with Guinevere in the city."

"Why didn't she come?" Ania asked Vanora, following her onto the footpath. "She _is_ my cousin and the old bat was her nonna too."

"She couldn't get out of that meeting," Vanora said calmly, looping her arm with Ania's. "Relax Ania. Nothing will happen here. It will just be little old Columbia Shire as we knew it when we were girls."

"Is that supposed to make me feel good?" Ania asked her. Vanora chuckled and squeezed Ania's hand as they walked into the deli. _'Oh this girl!'_

The bell on the door tinkled as both girls stepped into the shop. Two women behind the counter stoped speaking immediately and looked at them oddly. "Can we help you?" asked one of them. A middle aged woman with grey/purple hair and a floral apron tied around her waist.

'_Gods I hate floral things,'_ Vanora thought as she smiled at the curious looking women. "Yes, we'll take two chicken and avocado focaccia's to go please."

The women's eyes lingered on Ania for a moment before they set to work on the order. It was not until Vanora was handing over the money that the women became more friendly. "I know you two!" said the other woman. "You're Vanora Garner and Ania de Laurent!"

"Yes," the girls said in union.

"Why, I haven't seen you two in years!" said the woman with purple hair. "Oh, Ania Tristan will be so happy to see you! He's down visiting his mother."

Ania felt her insides boil but smiled meekly at the woman. "Do you miss nothing Mrs. Hayworth?" she asked, sarcasm intended.

Vanora took the bag from the women and headed for the door as Ania smiled sardonically at the women before winking at them.

The women watched the young women leave the deli before breaking out into chatter. "That Ania hasn't changed a bit," Mrs. Hayworth hissed.

"Relax Stella," the other one said patting her shoulder. "That girls always been feisty."

"Oh come off it Mary," Stella snapped. "The girl is as wild as a fag in a gay club."

Both women giggled before the door opened once more, this time revealing a tall burly man with a small scar running down his eye.

0-0-0

"Have you heard?" Lancelot asked Arthur, pulling a chip from his paper packet as they walked down the street. "Ania and Vanora are in town."

"Yes," Arthur said calmly, scraping his half bitten chip on the side of a paper packet to get more salt. "They are in town for Ania's grandmothers funeral."

"She hated her though!" Lancelot said as he pulled the car door open and spotting Tristan striding down the street. "Arthur," he hissed. He nodded toward Tristan and smirked at the man.

"Eating again?" Tristan asked Arthur, handing him a spare clip for his gun. Arthur took it and put it in his jacket pocket, careful not to get any salt on his jacket.

"Is the suspect being watched?" Arthur asked him.

"Yeah," Tristan said, making a motion for Lancelot to get in the back seat of the car. "Bors is on him."

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Everyone here thinks you're here to see your mother."

Tristan glowered at him before slamming the door of the Jeep closed after getting in the drivers seat. "Like I'd come to see her," he muttered as he revved the engine.

He had not seen his mother in four years. Not since his full blown break up with Ania. He'd never forgiven his mother for what she did. Ruining the first relationship he had with the only girl he had dated to want him for just _him_. Not for a quick shag or to hand off his arm like an idiot.

Ania was the first girl to get a conversation going with him. Not jump in the back seat of a car and pull her skirt up. Then it was ruined. His four months of bliss flew out of the door when he found out his mother told Ania that Tristan was still seeing Isolde Francess.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he remembered that girl. She had been with every guy in the year; including Arthur, which was saying something. Arthur noticed Tristan composure and turned to send Lancelot a scathing look.

"Look Tristan," Lancelot said. "Maybe this could be a good time to….talk to Ania? I mean….it's been over four years."

"Maybe," Tristan said as he turned to corner and to the drive way leading to Schiller Manor.

0-0-0

"Walk this way! Walk this way! Just give me a kiss!" Guinevere sang loudly in her car. She was singing along to 'Aerosmith' her favourite rock band. The sun was setting along the long highway leading from London to the outstretches of England.

Her fingers tapped the steering wheel in time with the guitar and she lowered the music slightly as her phone rang in its holster. "Hello?"

"_Hey its me. How's work?" _asked Ania's voice.

Guinevere put the music on mute quickly. "It's good Ania. Same as usual."

"_Are you in the car?" _Ania asked.

"_Just driving home,"_ Guinevere said, reading a sign that said 'Columbia Shire: 100 Miles'.

"_Ok,"_ she said. Her voice sounded tired and sad. _"I'll let you go then. See you in a few days." _

"Ok. Bye honey."

"_Bye. Vanora says be careful on the road."_

"I will. Bye."

"_Bye."_

Guinevere sighed loudly. She looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror and cringed. The eyeliner under her eyes had already begun to drip. She traced the tip of her finger along the lines and checked her reflection. _'Plane Jane.'_

She slowed the car down slightly and unbuttoned her jacket before flinging it to the backseat. Wearing those clothes irked her. It was only for today though. She and Ania were field agent's while Vanora, the lucky one, worked as their voice at the base. Everyone outside of work thought they worked as travel agents.

How wrong they were to think so. Guinevere pulled her gun out from the inside of her boot and stored it in her handbag as she passed another sign, this time reading: 'Columbia Village: 98 Miles'.

She was going to surprise Ania by arriving early for the funeral. She had told her she was being held up for a meeting to do with a case they had recently solved but wanted to surprise her cousin by being there for support.

"A few days of being just Guinevere Luchlan," she muttered to herself. "No more Agent Luchlan."

0-0-0

Tristan put his gun on top of the wooden liquor cabinet. He squatted down and pulled the glass doors open. "Wine, Brandy….Port….great, whisky," he said to himself as he pulled out the bottle of Johnny Walker red. He unscrewed the top and pulled three glasses off the top of the cabinet before walking into the next room.

Lancelot was sitting on the long couch in front of a short coffee table. His laptop was being plugged to Arthur's laptop which was facing the other way.

"What time is Dag getting in?" Arthur asked as he pulled his gun apart.

Tristan set the glasses on the table with the whisky and went to the side of the room to his carry bag. "Six," he said in an absent minded tone. He pulled out his own lap top and sat down beside Lancelot. "That shit has been in and out of pubs all afternoon," he said as he typed in his password.

Lancelot blindly handed him a glass of whisky as he stared at his computer screen. "That shit being James Anderson?" he asked, tapping the keys on his pad.

"Yeah." Tristan drowned the whisky in one, shook his head and groaned as the full hilt of the alcohol hit him.

"Headquarters has just been in touch with the American CIA," Arthur said, reading off his computer screen. "They've just informed Anderson that his citizenship to the US is now terminated."

"That'll make him happy," Lancelot said with a smirk. "What if he tries to get into Canada?"

Tristan shook his head as he brought up the MI5 file on James Anderson. "He won't. Got business to go here first."

Lancelot leaned back on the couch and looked around the dusty room. "Nice place you've got here."

Tristan lifted his eyes from the screen for a moment to look at the room. "As long as it's not inhabiting my mother then that's fine."

"You still crook with her?" Arthur asked as he clicked of the web page to see the MI5 sign on his desktop background.

Tristan nodded silently. "Haven't spoken in fours years. Not since…." He stoped speaking as Ania came to mind.

"She's called the office a bunch of times," Lancelot said. "Had to keep telling her you were in Berlin working on a bank project."

"As long as she stays out of my hair," Tristan said calmly.

0-0-0

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**A/N: **So? I hope you understand that characters a bit. I'm not telling much or else all of the secrets will be revealed in the first chapter. Review….if you like.


	2. Playing it straight

**Playing it straight:**

Dagonet sat beside Tristan in the jeep. He sipped his warm coffee as Tristan looked through his binoculars that were facing the shop window of a Kodak shop. Dag returned his travel mug into the cup holder and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as he rolled it back slightly. "What's he doing now?" he asked Tristan tiredly.

"Talking to someone," Tristan muttered as he adjusted the settings on the binoculars. He placed them back over his eyes and looked around the photo covered shop in the direction of their suspected terrorist.

They had been watching him all morning. Lancelot and Arthur were back at the manor sleeping as Bors stood in the shop getting audio feed. A beep came through the small hand phone.

"You're never gonna guess who the prick is talkin' to," Bors's voice growled.

Tristan and Dagonet perked up straight away. "Who?" Dagonet asked, keeping his eyes on the Kodak shop.

"Ania," he hissed. "Ania is in there and he's makin' his moves on her like a virus on a hot day."

Tristan looked at Dagonet blankly and made to get out of the car when Dag grabbed his arm. "It will look too odd if you go barging in there after not having seen her for four years," Dagonet said. Bors gave a low growl in the phone.

"I've got this," Bors said softly into the phone. Tristan watched the little black machine closely and sat back down in his seat. "Ania?" Bors said. "Is that you?"

"_Hey Bors!" _she said in a happy tone. _"Long time no see."_

"I know," Bors chuckled. There was a short pause.

"_Well I'd er….better be going,"_ said, who they assumed to be James Anderson.

"_Bye,"_ Ania said. Another moment of silence before Bors coughed. _"Thanks. You really saved me then. I was about to feed him a very overly used excuse."_

Bors laughed and Dagonet and Tristan sighed in relief. "No problems. I heard about yer' grandmother."

"_Oh, well. She was old,"_ her voice said. _"So what are you doing here?"_

"Visiting," he said quickly.

"_Vanora's still single if that is what the curious look is about,"_ her voice sounded calm a knowing.

"Really? Oh, I hadn't really thought about it."

Tristan and Dag smirked. Ania laughed. _"She's staying at my place. You can make a ……an accidental visit if you'd like."_

"Oh….sure if you'd like," he said, trying to sound bored but his voice carrying hidden excitement.

"_It was lovely seeing you,"_ Ania said. _"Drop in ok?"_

"Right," Bors said. "Bye Ania."

Tristan and Dagonet watched a woman with curly brown hair walk out of the Kodak store wearing jeans and a Marilyn Manson t-shirt and converse runners. She put her black sunglasses on her face and made her way to her BMW four wheel drive which was parked right outside.

"Lucky, Bors, eh?" Dagonet said as they watched Ania drive off.

0-0-0

"Vanora?" Ania said into her phone.

"_Trust that big oaf to ruin things,"_ Vanora said in a huff.

"Anderson won't get away," Ania said, watching the road. "He's keen. All we have to do is wait."

"_Alright,"_ Vanora said, she began typing her report for the SOS files.

"I'll see you in a moment," Ania said into the phone.

"_Right."_

The line went flat and as Ania was putting the phone back into it's holster she hit the brake panel as Guinevere's Volks Wagon driving toward her. She stuck her head out of the window and Guinevere did so a second later. "SURPRISE!" she yelled from the window.

"You little sneak!" Ania said happily. "You should have told me!"

"I wanted to surprise you cousin," Guinevere said happily. She looked down the road and saw a car coming toward them. "Let's go home. We can talk then. Headquarters has just given me an update on the Anderson case."

"Right."

0-0-0

**Flashback:**

**5 Years ago**

Ania pulled at her dark brown tank top. She and Tristan were lying on the hood of his car watching the stars. It was the perfect end of a perfect date. She abandoned her heels in the car a while ago and was absent-mindedly rubbing Tristan's palm. He took a hold of her hand and looked at the dark brown nail polish on her long nails. "It's strange but it suits you," he said as he laced his fingers with hers.

She laughed and rolled onto her side, facing him. Her chunky wooden bangle made a noise against the thick metal one as she lifted her other arm to move his fringe from his eyes. "My nonna would have a fit if she knew I was out here," she said softly.

His eyes questioned her as she spoke. "Do you really not like her so much?"

"I don't dislike her," Ania began, irritated about thinking of her grandmother. "Sometimes…..she can be amazing, but other times…..I feel like all she's dong is judging me because I'm not like my mother."

"But you're not your mother," he told her, leaning his forehead against hers.

"I can't be; even if I tried," she said regretfully. "My mother was so….proper. She was every thing her title granted. I…..hack into computers and listen to heavy metal. I'm not like her."

"You have to be smart to hack though," Tristan told her, lifted his hand to stroke her face. "Your grandmother loves you."

"I know," she said softly. "But I love you too."

"I love you more," he whispered. She laughed and kissed him softly. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as she lay on his chest. "By the way," he said, breaking their kiss. "You look really nice today."

She laughed again and checked her form for a second. "Thankyou. Spring fashion of 2000."

**End of Flashback**

0-0-0

Tristan groaned and rolled onto his bed. He opened one eye and looked at his watch. _10:00 Am_. He had been up since four preparing for the morning stake out. Lancelot and Arthur were now following the subject and he was determined to get a few hours sleep.

He could really do with a…. "No" his mind told him. He'd been clean of that stuff for three years. He started smoking weed, or marijuana as it is better known, when he was 17 years old. When he began dating Ania, he stoped for what seemed to be for good. But when things fell apart, he fell into the pit of despair again thinking there was no escape.

When he began training as a police officer and quickly went up the ranks and into the MI5 secret service, he knew he had to stop if he wanted to keep his job. Dagonet, Bors, Lancelot, Arthur, Gawain and Galahad were the only ones who knew he was smoking marijuana and helped him stop. For him, there was no escape for his pain.

Falling in love hits you, but loosing that love hit him so hard it almost tipped him over the edge. Drinking helped. He never became an alcoholic but at times, once a week or so, when times were really down and especially when something reminded him of Ania, he would drink himself silly.

He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes roughly as sleep came over him. He could still see her face. He envisioned her expression when she confronted him of what his mother had told her. So much hurt and anger. She didn't even give him time to explain.

What hurt more was that, in his back pocket an engagement ring which he had bought for her lay waiting to be put on. He could see the tears flowing from her eyes as she told him everything his mother had told her. He ran after her when she left his house. For the first time, he begged for something. He begged for her to listen to him.

Emotion filled his chest and he gasped, trying to rid himself of the feelings. The bloody memories wouldn't go away. He closed his eyes tightly and willed something happy to come to mind.

0-0-0

**Flashback:**

**5 years ago.**

"Tristan?"

He opened his eyes and looked at the freshly woken girl beside him. She was smiling at him and leaning on her elbows. She then rolled onto her back and looked out of the window as Tristan put his head on her chest and draped his arm over her. She dragged her fingers through his long hair as her eyes slowly drooped closed again.

Her heartbeat filled his ears and his own heart went to the same rhythm after a moment. "I love you," he said lazily, falling asleep again.

She smiled. "Love you to," she said before yawning.

There was a loud knock on the door and Tristan moved his head slightly.

"Tristan?" his mothers voice sounded. "Are you awake, dear?"

"Yes," he called before burying his face in Ania's sheet covered chest.

"Is Ania with you?" she asked. The girl in question frowned at the door as Tristan rose from the bed and pulled on a pair of boxers before opening to the door to his freshly groomed mother.

"Ah," she said, looking him up and down. "I see you're still asleep. No bother."

"Do you need anything?" he asked her as Ania rose from the bed. She knew his mother didn't want her there; it was best to leave.

"No, I'm just going into town."

'_And you had to wake me to tell me that?'_ he thought before saying, "Ok. I'll see you later then."

"Alright dear."

He closed the door and saw Ania already half dressed. She was flushed and looked irritated. She finished clipping her bra and was looking around for her shirt when Tristan pulled her down to the bed. Sighing and knowing he wasn't going to let go she calmed down and rested in his arms. "Does she really hate me so much?" she asked him softly.

"She doesn't hate you," Tristan corrected.

"Yes, she does," Ania told him as Tristan tightened his arms around her. "Why?"

Tristan closed his eyes. "I don't know." And he really didn't.

**End of flashback**

0-0-0

"So Anderson is connected to the Italian terrorist Marius Honorius?" Vanora asked, pacing the living room floor.

"Yes," Guinevere said before shoving down a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "He's been feeding information to Anderson through a man called….," she looked through the scattered papers on the kitchen table, "…Germanus, Andrea Germanus."

"What do you think Ania?" Vanora asked Ania.

She was leaning her head on the table with her eyes closed.

"Ania?" Vanora asked.

Ania jumped and quickly wiped her eyes before looking at Vanora with a cover up smile. "Yes? Sorry I wasn't listening."

"Are you crying?" Guinevere asked, putting down her fork.

Ania bit her lip and shook her head as she wiped her eyes. "I have something in my eyes."

"Yeah," Vanora said. "Tears. Why are you crying?"

Ania sighed and looked at the ceiling. Both girls waited patiently for her to speak. "I wish I'd listened." She lowered her head to her hands. "I wish I had stoped running away and listened when he asked me to."

Guinevere and Vanora looked at one another, not knowing what to say. Ania tapped her lips. "Well, there is no point in thinking about it. What's done is done right?"

She rose from the table and went to the sink. She rummaged her handbag and pulled out a small plastic orange bottle, trying to hide it from view of the girls and took out a small pill.

"Ania….what are those?" Vanora asked as Ania filled her glass with water.

"Headache tablets," she lied before drinking the water with the pill.

Guinevere eyed her bag suspiciously. _'Prescription headache tablets?' _

The door bell rang and Ania said she would get it. Vanora lunged for the bag and pulled out the small bottle. Her eyes widened. She put it back in the bag and looked at Guinevere. "Ani-depressants."

"I didn't know she was on those," Guinevere said as a numbed of footsteps were coming into the kitchen.

"Me either," Vanora said. "Why is she taking them?"

Guinevere shrugged as Arthur and Bors came into view, Ania behind them. Vanora's expression turned slightly sour as she saw Bors but Ania gave her a pleading look and upon seeing the apologetic look on his face she felt her anger leave.

"Hello Bors," she said with a smile. "Arthur."

"Arthur," Guinevere nodded. "Hi Bors."

A short silence was cut short when Ania offered coffee to everyone. Guinevere quickly hid the papers she was reading and disappeared into the living room for a moment as Arthur and Bors sat down around the table.

"So how have you been?" Vanora asked them, trying her best to remain calm and not throttle the man before her.

Bors cleared his throat. "Good, yeah."

"Were based in London now," Arthur said politely. "All of us."

"Really? Us too," Ania said as she brought a pot of coffee to the table. "Of course…..were hardly ever there. Travel agents, you know."

"How do you like work?" Arthur asked her conversationally, as Guinevere came back into the room.

"Oh, its great," Ania answered as she sat down. "Travelling and seeing all those places."

"So what are you doing back here?" Guinevere asked. "All of you at once?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Well, were down….for a break. We wanted to get away from the city but not long enough to go overseas."

"Oh," Guinevere said, arching an eyebrow. "I haven't seen Galahad and Gawain."

"They're in London still," Bors said. "Workin' on a new case."

"Case?" Vanora asked.

"Bank," Arthur corrected. "A case for the bank."

The girls looked at one another. The phone rang. Ania jumped up and answered it before anyone could speak. "Yes, Sir," she said into the phone.

Everyone remained silent as Ania turned pale. "We'll be in, in a few hours. No Captain. Everything is under control. No we don't need it. Alright, bye sir." Ania hung up the phone and looked at Guinevere.

"Office?" Vanora asked her.

"Daisy is pushing them up," Ania said. It was a code, to tell them one of their agents had died.

"When?" Guinevere snapped.

"Yesterday," Ania mumbled. "Honorius's orders."

Bors and Arthur looked at one another wide-eyed. _'No fucking way these girls are agents.'_

Ania smiled at them. "Sorry. We have to go back into the office."

"What about your grandmothers funeral?" Arthur inquired as he rose from the table.

"She won't miss me," Ania said calmly. She led them to the door as Vanora waved sardonically to Bors's back.

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**Author note: **I hope you get a better feel for the story now. I'm trying to tie in the movie characters so it's not a complete OC.

Thanks _Cardia_ for putting the story onto your C2. Anyone who hasn't read 'dust devils'….I strongly suggest you do. It's one of the best stories I've read. Review…..if you want to.


	3. Starting Over

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of King Arthur. I do own all the OC characters.

**Author Note:**

Hi readers,

Just a **WARNING: **this chapter contains language and mentions of abortion. If you are sensitive to this subject please do not read further. Its not over the top but I don't want flame reviews felling me I'm evil for touching on the subject.

**Cardeia: **I'm really happy you like this. I love 'Dust Devils' a lot you should be proud of the story. I'm not much of a time travel fan either which is why I based this story in the 21st Century straight out.

I wanted to do something cool so I thought them being agents was a good idea. I won't go into it very much in this chapter but maybe in the next, they come from wealthy families. I took that idea from the 'Lady' and 'Sir' titles in the myths and though why not make them nobles in the 21st century while they live wild lives?

They are not in enemy agencies. MI5 is a British intelligence agency which works within Britain against terrorists and SIS (MI6) works in and out of Britain. I'm glad I do the characters justice and you'll get a bit more info toward Vanora and Bors in this chapter. It's quite sad.

I put the friendship with the girls according to my friendships with my friends and sister. They are _very_ close. Enjoy this chapter.

**Beautiful Enigma: **Thankyou! Sorry this one took so long but I've been full up with work these past few days. Writing is a passion for me so I want to make things good. I'm so glad you enjoy it.

**KnightMaiden: **Hey! I'm glad you like it. I'm sorry, it's not a time travel story. I wanted to put the Knights in the 21st Century for this one. Hope you're not disappointed. Thanks.

On with the show people!

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**Starting Over**

Guinevere grinned as she turned up the volume on the car stereo. Ania and Vanora were in the BMW so she was free to listen to her favourite music. The beat of 'Disturbed's; Prayer' shot through the car, giving her a rush of adrenalin.

She racked around her handbag for a moment and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She looked in the rear view mirror and saw Ania and Vanora banging their heads to what she could only guess was punk music. Guinevere sighed loudly as she flicked off the lid-it fell into the floor. "Fucking hell," she mumbled as she looked at the floor of the driver's seat. "Screw it," she said as she applied the lipstick.

0-0-0

**Schiller Manor**

Arthur and Bors entered Schiller Manor. Bors was confused and dazed about what he and Arthur had been speaking of in the car. "They can't be," he protested as his Unit commander walked into the living room.

Dagonet handed him a report. "Bors, you heard what she said. It was code. We learned it in our own training. They're agents!" Arthur told him sternly.

"Who?" Lancelot asked. He looked at Tristan who shrugged, not knowing what Arthur and Bors were on about.

"Just bin' visiting the girls," Bors began, giving Arthur a look of contempt. "Ania had a phone call on her phone and she said, 'Daisy is pushing them up'. Now Arthur, here thinks they are all Agents!"

Tristan laughed. "With who? We're MI5. We'd know if they were Agents."

"Not if they are SIS," Arthur said as he finished reading Dagonets report. He flipped it closed. "Right. Anderson is going back to London we're leaving. Tristan call the office and ask Sally is there has been any news on Honorius. Lancelot help Bors pack our stuff. We're leaving within the hour. Dagonet, contact Gawain and Galahad. Put them on surveillance for when Anderson and his goons arrive in London."

Arthur opened his laptop and connected a call to the head station in London. "This is Agent C, number; 670594. Connect me to Alessio Plegius."

0-0-0

**London: SIS Headquarters. **

**5 buildings down from MI5 Headquarters. **

"How are you feeling?" Daphne Stevenson asked Ania as they walked to the briefing room. Their yawning woman smiled, despite her exhaustion.

"I'll live," Ania replied. "You?"

"Left broken hearted," Daphne said sadly. "It didn't work out."

Ania stoped outside of the door and stared at her friend. "Was he sleeping with someone else?"

"No," she said thoughtfully. "We just didn't connect on _that_ level. Don't get me wrong, the sex was great but……he's not a forward thinker."

Ania smirked. "He's always been like that."

Daphne smirked as she handed Ania a folder with a green logo on the front. "Have fun. Gov has been on a rampage about Honorius since this morning-he's planning another bombing."

Ania hissed inwardly as she prepared to open the door. "I'll talk to you soon, ok? After this I'm gong home for a bottle of Irish Cream and a long sappy DVD to take my mind of my non existent sex life."

"Pity," Daphne mused. "You should get back together with…..what was his name-Tristan?"

Ania's face fell. She looked at the door uncomfortably and smiled meekly, so as not to make Daphne feel awkward. "I've moved on. Maybe someone else will come along."

She didn't believe her own words. She'd been dodging going out with other men because then it would mean she was saying that there was no hope for her and Tristan. True-they had been apart for four years but when you love someone; you don't _really_ ever let go.

She entered the dimmed boardroom which held a long dark wooden table, quipped with a jug of water and glasses. "Gov?" Ania asked as she closed the door.

An old man, in his late sixties, with greying hair and a thick grey moustache turned around and smiled at her. "Ania," he said kindly. "We've got a problem."

"I can see," she told him as she sat down at the end of the table. "What do I need to do about Honorius?"

'Gov' as he was better known as was truly Agent E. Frost. Everyone called him 'Gov' in respect for his role in their department to which he played the Governor of all the Agents.

"MI5 have had a team tailing one of his men, Anderson, as you have and have gathered the same information." He sat down beside her and ran a hand over his moustache. "We need to you to bring in Anderson so we can question him."

"How? He's committed no offences," Ania told him.

"Get him for having a broken tail light, a flat tire, harassing an underage girl…anything Ania!" he said in an exasperated tone.

"Yes, Sir."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." He looked at her and pulled out an identical folder to the one Ania was holding. "You'll be working with an MI5 team on this one."

"But Gov-"

"I'm sorry Ania. It's orders. They've been working on the case and we don't want to make an enemy of MI5 by taking over them."

Ania nodded and proceeded toward the door. "I'll see you in a few days then Sir."

"Alright Ania."

0-0-0

**Nottingham, London. **

**Residence of Ania, Guinevere and Vanora. **

Vanora put the cropped onion into the frying pan and listened to it fry for a moment. "So we have to work with an MI5 team on this?" she asked Guinevere loudly over the loud sounds.

Guinevere and Ania were sitting on the kitchen table in their Nottingham home, surrounded by paper work-related to the 'Honorius Terrorist' case, while Vanora cooked. Guinevere blew another bubble with her gum-it was a habit of hers. When she was thinking, she chewed.

"Yeah," she said, breathing from her nose as she made a loud 'scrunching' sound with her mouth.

Vanora chuckled. She stirred the chicken chunks in the pan with the wooden spoon when the phone rang. "Hello?"

Ania and Guinevere looked up from the table to listen to who was on the line.

"Yes Gawain," Vanora said, indicating to the girls that this was unexpected. "Oh it is, is it?"

Guinevere and Ania looked at one another as Vanora's expression turned murderous. "Well don't you think he had better ask me himself?" she fumed. "It is a _courteous _thing to do! No, Gawain, I'm not angry at you! If that lump can't even pick up the phone to ask me himself he can shove the invitation right up his-"

"Van!" Ania cried. She pointed to the frying pan which was letting off smoke.

Vanora swore under her breath and while holding the phone-listening to Gawain apologise for Bors's behaviour, turned down the heat and poured the dinner in the sink.

"Thankyou," Vanora said breathlessly, replacing the pan on the stove. "I'll think about it, alright?" She smiled into the phone. "Alright bye."

"That went well," Guinevere said as she read the papers in front of her.

"It's his birthday coming up," Vanora said quietly. "He invited me-us, to his party."

"Who Bors?" Ania questioned.

"Yeah," Vanora said whilst smiling. She wiped away a tear and looked into the sink as she tried her hardest not to give into her emotions.

She and Bors had been a serious item whilst in their last years of high school. They both went to one of the most prestigious Colleges in England-as did the rest of the gang. It wasn't until their last year that trouble really began.

Vanora became pregnant during the middle of the year and decided with Bors to terminate the pregnancy. They thought it would bring them closer to one another and when the time was right they would have a child. But it didn't. They fell apart within days and have not spoken since breaking up.

Ania wrapped her arms around Vanora's waist and hugged her. "It's ok Van. Maybe the time is right for you to get back together. It's been a long while."

Vanora sniffed and wiped her eyes. "What about you and Tristan? It's been just as long."

"He won't want me back," Ania said in a hurt voice. "He's probably moved on already, but this isn't about me. You and Bors are meant to be. Go to the party."

Vanora laughed and wiped her red cheeks again. "A lot of people are 'meant to be' and are not. Will you come with me?"

"Okay," Ania told her. "Guinevere too."

"Hey!" shouted the woman.

"You're coming and that's that," Ania said sternly. "NO excuses."

Guinevere huffed and turned back to her work. "Goddamn parties."

0-0-0

**Flashback: **

**Hadrian's College: 4 ½ years ago**

Tristan moved his long fringe from in front of his face and looked across the hall.

He was sitting at the end of a long table in the dinning hall of Hadrian's College. Bors was thumping Dagonet for dumping Alexandra Millenious. One of the 'it' girls of the school. In Tristan's opinion the 'it' girls were only 'it' until their legs had been uncrossed and every guy had had just five minutes.

He couldn't really talk. He'd had his way with Isolde, but to his favour, none of the rest. He couldn't stand any of them. Talking and prancing around like chickens trying to win the rooster by stretching her chest out as far as she could.

His eyes averted in Isolde's direction. Yes, sitting their in all of her blond perfection chatting with her 'it' girlfriends like there was no tomorrow.

'_Bugger.'_ She was looking in his direction. She smiled at him. He looked away from her calmly trying to look like he was listening to the jargon Lancelot was talking about.

He was bored within moments and rose from the table, picking up his bag as he did, and began to leave the table. "I'm going to my dorm," he said in a bored voice.

He walked onto the freshly pruned grounds of the school and walked toward the end of the castle where the dorms where.

"Oh my gosh," said a startled voice up against him.

He stepped back, holding onto a flushed girl who had just lost her footing after bumping into him. The girl moved her wavy brown hair from in front of her face and looked at him. "Hi Tristan," Ania said as she smiled shyly. A deep blush crept up her cheeks as he nodded. "I'm sorry; I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Don't worry," he said. She nodded and fixed her book bag nervously.

"Well, I'll….er…see you later," she fumbled, smiling as she walked past him. Her tight black jeans showed him she was in her 'punk/Goth' mood again.

Everyone knew Ania was a music/movie fanatic. She went from Latin music to heavy gothic. Today, she was in a Goth mood. Her yellow 'Alice Cooper' t-shirt clung tightly to her chest (he just so happened to notice) and the curves of her hips stood out with her tight pants. _'Nice arse.'_ He swore at himself for thinking such a thing.

Ania looked back at him and smiled.

Every mans true dream, he thought. Every guy in the school wanted a piece of her. She had been such an introverted, quiet girl when she first arrived. Never really fitting in with the crowd because she was so worried about school.

It wasn't until the last year that she relaxed more and showed more of her personality. Wild was how he would describe her. Wild and fun.

He closed the door to his dorm room with his foot and threw his bag onto his four poster bed. He wiped his sweaty forehead as he felt himself become drowsy. He'd been clean for a few weeks but it was proving hard not to take a smoke every now and then.

He splashed cold water on his sweaty face, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself. Why did he become like this? His dried his face with a newly washed face towel and thought back to her. Ania.

"This is fucking shit," he said to himself as he turned off the bathroom light.

**End of Flashback**

0-0-0

**Lancelot's Apartment: Central London**

"Oh yes!" Aurrela screamed loudly.

The blond girl collapsed on top of Lancelot after having the most intense orgasm of her life. The dark man smirked and rested his hands on her hips as he tried to catch his breath.

Aurrela rolled off him and lay on her back. "Cool," she said breathlessly. She looked at him and smirked herself at the stupid grin on his face.

"I take it you don't peek much," he said smugly.

She rolled onto her side and smiled. "No. My boyfriend isn't talented in that area. It was great."

"I know," he told her. "So how _is_ Horton these days?"

'_Don't make her have a one word vocabulary.'_

"Oh, the same," she said tiredly. "In and out of Italy like a yoyo. It's cool though. It means I can do what I like and spend his money while I'm doing it."

Lancelot grinned and looked at his side clock and mobile phone. _'Ring you piece of- yey.'_

The phone rang just when the clock struck 12:34AM.

"Yes?"

'_Is she talking?'_ Arthur asked him.

"Mum, can we…..oh. You need me now?"

'_You're a dickhead. Get the information then get out of there,'_ Arthur told him angrily.

Lancelot grinned. "Ok, I'll be over soon." He hung up the phone and looked at Aurrela who was getting dressed.

"I have to go," she told him as she pulled on her blazer.

Lancelot rolled out of the bed pulling on his boxers. "I hope we can do this again."

She looked at him, frozen in her movement of picking up her handbag. "Okay. I'll be out of contact for a few days but…..I'll call you."

"Alright."

0-0-0

**MI5 Base: London**

Tristan drowned the last of the coffee in his mug and slammed his back down on his desk. He'd been sitting behind his computer watching surveillance tapes for the past four hours. He pulled his hair back from his face and leaned back in his chair stretching his arms out.

Arthur slammed the doors open and flopped down in his chair. "He's done it."

Tristan sat up and closed his laptop. "She knows where Horton is?"

"Yes," Arthur said, rubbing his eyes. "If can get him, we can get to Germanius and with Germanius we can get Honorius. But I have bad news."

"What?"

"We have to work with the SIS on this from now on," Arthur said. "They've been working on the case too and have leads on Honorius."

"Fucking hell," Tristan mumbled. Just what he needed. Know-it-all international spies on this case.

"You're telling me," Arthur mumbled. "We meet them tomorrow. By the way…."

Tristan looked at him.

"…the girls are coming to Bors's party. Put on your party hat."

"I don't party," Tristan grumbled. "Well this has turned out to be the worst day of my life."

Arthur chuckled. "You and me both."

Tristan put his computer in his bad and pulled out his keys. "I'm going. See you."

"Bye."

0-0-0

**Flashback: **

**Four ½ years ago: Tristan's house.**

"I can't cook if you keep doing that," Ania said, trying her hardest not to laugh.

She was standing in Tristan's kitchen cooking pasta for them both but not going about it very well because Tristan kept letting his hands wander. He laughed in her neck knowing he would get his way sooner or later.

"You're mother will be back tonight," she told him seriously. "We have all day to…oh!"

Tristan pressed her against the counter and kissed her roughly. She dropped the wooden spoon forgetting that she was cooking and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You cook next time," she told him as she tugged at the waistband of his boxers. "Then I'll molest you and show you how hard it is to cook whilst trying not to be seduced."

He shrugged. "I'll get take away."

"That's cheating!" She slapped his chest as he flipped her over his shoulder and made his way to the bedroom. "The gas is still on!"

Calmly, he turned around turned off the gas as he smirked, and continued toward his room. Ania sighed. "You have a nice arse by the way," he told her, eyeing it from the corner of his eye.

"Thanks. You too." She smiled as he dropped her onto his bed. "Back to school tomorrow."

"I know," he said as he lay down beside her. "Back to sneaking around."

She kissed him and moved his long hair from his face. "I still cannot believe we didn't get caught that night in the stables. I though Mrs. Woodend would catch us for sure."

"Thanks to my brilliant planning," he said smugly, "we didn't."

"What an ego!" she said. "I'll have to deflate that."

"It's undeflatable," he said happily.

"That's not even a word," she laughed as she traced the eagle tattoo on his arm.

"It makes sense to me."

"Wonderful," she droned as she rolled him onto his back. "We didn't come up here to chat because we could be doing that as we _ate!_"

"We can eat at anytime," he said, watching her pull off her t-shirt.

Just as she leaned down to kiss him, his phone rang. "No way," she said angrily as she looked at the ringing machine.

"Ignore it."

She took it off the hook and smiled. "No more interruptions."

**

* * *

Author Note: **

In this story Tristan's hair is not as long as in the movie. I'm over the moon here because Mads Mikkelson's TV drama: Unit one is airing weekly (as Lucillaq as told me). I'm getting a lot of his character for this story and incorporating it with Tristan's.

I hope I'm doing ok. There is a lot in this plot and it's taking sometime. _Cardeia_, I hope I showed a bit more insight to Vanora and Bors's relationship.

Review.


	4. Uncomfortable

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of King Arthur.

**Author Note: **

**Beautiful Enigma: **I'm so happy your getting into it more! I've been going a bit slow with it but I'll be able to write more and longer when my schedule tires down at bit, which is quite soon. Thanks for reviewing, always appreciate it.

**Cardiea: **Yes, they've _just_ come together in this chapter. I leave it on a bit of a dull note but I've had to do a bit of planning for the chapter after this.

Tristan and Ania will have a bit of _deep _discussion in the chapter after this one, I promise. Also learning a bit more about Ania and why she's so…cold.

I'm glad you laughed in the Lancelot scene. I thought if anyone had to be the whore to extract information that it had to be him.

I'm **ecstatic **that you like the flashback scene. They come off the top of my head (not literally) and they are a lot of fun. You'll like the one in this chapter with Vanora and Bors.

Fantastic that you reviewed, and I'm happy to be on your C2. Thanks. Enjoy this chapter.

**

* * *

**

**Uncomfortable**

**Upper London: Ice Bar **

The music in the up town London bar pumped through the building. Neon lights floated around the dark room, being the only light source.

Ania sat on a cushioned chair in the corner of the retro bar clad in a knee length black skirt, black stilettos and a dark brown tank-top. She had no time to change out of her work clothes when Vanora told her it was _her_ who would be going into the bar to meet the MI5 team.

She scratched her ear piece with her freehand; the other was holding a martini glass, and heard Vanora cough.

'_Can you see them?'_ Vanora asked her. A buzzing sound came through when Vanora pulled back from the microphone she undoubtedly had in front of her as she sat in the black van, parked outside of the club.

"No," Ania said, not moving her lips too much. "But you'll flip when you find out who just walked in."

'_Who?'_

"Arthur, Lancelot, Gawain and…Tristan," Ania breathed as she watched the four men make their way through the bar.

'_Don't worry, none of them are holding a Nokia phone in their left hand.'_ Vanora laughed as Ania gulped.

"Yes, Van, they are." Ania turned away from the group. "Holy Fuck Van, they're spies!"

'_Keep it cool,'_ Vanora hissed worriedly. _'This case has become a conflict of interest. Just get out of there unnoticed.'_

"They are stationed on all sides of the bar," she whispered into the microphone on her top. "I can't get out without being noticed."

'_I'm sending in backup,'_ Vanora said as she signalled for Guinevere to go in.

The sliding door of the van opened, revealing a tall girl in a short black dress and long dark brown hair. She closed the door with a 'thud' and made her way into the bar. "Testing," she said into the microphone.

'_Go ahead Guin you're clear,'_ Vanora said watching her friend walk into the bar.

Guinevere walked directly to Ania and sat down on a stool beside the flushed woman. "Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright," Ania questioned, her voice quivering like mad.

"Calm down," Guinevere said as she waved to the undercover bar tender. "I'll have a whisky and a signal for when the newcomers have steered clear."

The man nodded and went back to the bar. Ania looked behind her and saw Tristan standing, stiff as a board, by the bar as Arthur squinted in their direction. "We need to get out," Ania said.

A blond man walked to their table and pulled out what looked to be a business card. "Agent S?" he asked Ania.

"Who wants to know?"

Guinevere watched a tall bald man with a 'Respect' tattoo on the back of his head rise from his seat beside a short stocky man who looked like the Russian Mafia.

The blond man smiled at Ania pleasantly. "You need to come with us."

"Why?" she and Guinevere asked.

"Without a fight," he continued as if they had not spoken. "My employer would like a word."

Ania lifted the side of her skirt, out of view of the man, and fingered her gun. "I don't think so. Your employer can come here or speak to mine."

The man nodded to the cronies and they swiftly walked over to the table. "Let's go 'hot stuff'," said the bald one.

'_Problems?'_ Vanora asked. _'I have visual. Get out of there. They are Italian Mafia. Again, abort the mission, they work for Honorius.'_

0-0-0

Gawain noticed the two stocky men walk to a far table, where two brunette women were sitting. "Don't they look familiar?" he asked the air.

'_Mafia,' _Tristan said, turning around casually to get a better look.

"If my eyes don't deceive me," Lancelot said. "I'd say that was Ania and Guinevere sitting at the table."

"What are they doing here?" Arthur asked as he waved off a bar tender.

"Holy crap!" Lancelot yelled as a guns came out along the table.

Tristan instantly pulled out his gun and fired at the Mafia men.

People in the bar began screaming and getting onto the floor. "Stay down!" Lancelot yelled as he ran to where Ania and Guinevere stood fighting in hand to hand combat with two of the men.

Arthur pushed past a group of people, yelling for them to get on the ground.

Ania knocked the blond man to the ground and pulled out her gun. "Goddamn Mafia," she mumbled as she put her gun to his head.

Guinevere held the bald one on the ground with her foot and gun pointed to his back as the short one sat against the wall, blood pouring from his leg. Gawain slammed the mans head against the wall, knocking him out before turning to Ania. "Long time no see," he said, smiling and pulling out handcuffs.

"Shit," she mumbled, realising now she and Guinevere had been caught as spies. She pulled out her phone and dialled to headquarters. "This is Agent S. Pin code: 152292567, requesting an armed car to uptown London. Ice Bar. I have three armed men, one wounded and needing assistance."

She looked at the blond one and then to Guinevere who was calmly sitting on a chair. The sounds of police cars was coming closer to their location.

'_Ania? What's going on?'_

"Everything is under control Van," Ania said as she looked at Arthur. "I'm coming out in a minute. Give this case to Daphne and her lot."

Guinevere nodded.

"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" Lancelot asked Ania. "Why are _you_ here holding a gun?"

"What do you think?" Ania snapped.

"You're Agents?" Gawain asked them softly. "When?"

"Could ask you that," Guinevere said, looking at Arthur accusingly.

Ania looked at Tristan who was putting his gun back in the back of his pants. "Hi."

"Ania," he greeted.

"These the purps?" asked a man with a Manchester accent.

"Yes," Guinevere told him. "Don't go to gentle in this one and his wound. He managed a heavy backhand before I could blast him."

The man chuckled. "Right O."

Ania stepped aside, going closer to Tristan, so the police officer could get to the wounded man.

The people in the bar were being filed out, some of them being taken into ambulances, to be treated for shock. Arthur phoned his headquarters in a corner as Ania and Tristan stood in a tensed silence and Lancelot brooded beside Guinevere and Gawain.

"You really giving up the case?" Gawain asked Ania.

"Conflict of interest," Ania said looking toward the door. "Don't work with personals."

"Gov is going to keep us on it," Guinevere said airily. "He knows who the MI5 people are." She looked at the blond man who was being led away by SIS Agents. "Waited two years to catch that guy. If only we'd just sat here he would have come to us earlier."

Ania laughed softly.

"Well this had your name written all over it," said a gruff voice behind her.

Ania jumped and with Tristan turned around to see the Gov giving her his 'look'. "Killed two birds with one stone?" he asked her sarcastically. "Caught Mafia cronies and met up with your new team?"

"New team?" Guinevere asked in a small voice.

"Too right," Gov said as he ate a mint. "You know the office is going to have kittens when they hear you had a shooting in the middle of a public place."

"No one died," Ania said. "Well, one guy got wounded but….things happen."

Fully expecting for him to laugh at her, Ania breathed a sigh of relief when Gov pulled out a cigar and laughed heartily. "You're still on the case, Madam," he said as he lit the end of the cigar.

"Are we allowed to do that?" she asked him curiously.

"We are now," he said, pulling the cigar from his mouth. "Nice to meet you boys."

He winked at Guinevere and made his way to the bars exit.

0-0-0

**London: Residence of Ania, Guinevere and Vanora**

"This is a nightmare!" Ania screamed in her pillow. She fell back on the couch and leaned her head against the back.

Vanora flopped down beside her and removed her shoes. "We'll get through this."

"We were going to see them at the party anyway," Guinevere said as she threw her phone on the table, "there's no real difference."

"Yes, but we were only going to see them for a few hours at the party," Ania said irritably, "now we have to _work_ with them!"

"You know what we need?" Vanora said, a smile creeping over her lips.

The two girls waited for their best friend to answer.

"Pizza, Ice cream and an epic." Vanora picked up the phone and dialled the pizza parlour closest to them.

Guinevere jumped down to their DVD collection and pulled out King Arthur, Gladiator, Lord of the rings and the Last of the Mohicans. "Pick one," she ordered Ania.

"We'll have a large Napolitana, a medium Mexicana and a family size half Caprichosa and half Hawaiian," Vanora said into the phone. "Delivery, yes. Thankyou!"

"The Last of the Mohicans," Ania said to Guinevere, pushing the DVD to her.

"I can't believe how much they have changed," Vanora said as she took out plates and cutlery.

0-0-0

**Flashback: Vanora's House in Winchester**

"I don't think we can get through this," Vanora said tearfully. "I can't stop thinking about what we had to do."

Bors put a hand on her arm and nodded. "We'll get through it Van. We couldn't have a kid now…what would everyone say?"

"I don't _care_ about what everyone will say Bors!" she screamed. "I care about me! Me and you! How is this going to work?"

"The baby is gone," Bors said softly. "We made the choice. When the time is right we can have another one."

Vanora wiped her eyes and nodded. "What if my parents find out?"

"They won't," he whispered as he put his forehead against hers. "Look, you can't face them like this. Go to Ania's. Stay with her until school starts and take a holiday."

Vanora glared at him. "This is how we fix everything? Have an abortion and then 'Van, just take a holiday everything will be fine?'"

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I can't handle you right now," she said, walking toward her room.

"Vanora!"

Vanora stoped on the second stair and looked back to Bors. "I _don't_ want to talk right now. I just want to be alone. There's the door."

**End of Flashback: **

0-0-0

**Secret Meeting Location: New conjoined MI5 and SIS headquarters. **

Ania pulled up into the forest covered parking lot. There was a black bus waiting for them in the middle of the deserted, cemented area.

"A bus?" Vanora asked softly. "I'm going to be working out of a bus?"

"It'll look different inside," Ania told her as she opened the car door. Guinevere handed her, her work bag and then shut the passenger door.

Vanora glared at the shiny black bus as Ania locked the car with her keys. "Mercedes," she said as she looked at the logo on the front of the bus. "Nice."

Ania knocked hard on the side of the door. Guinevere bent over to fix the strap of her heel as the door opened with a loud 'thump'. "Good morning," Arthur said curtly, looking at Guinevere for a brief moment before stepping aside.

A short step rack slid out and the girls climbed into the bus one by one. Inside it was like a giant office/home. At the far end was the drivers cabin, where Lancelot was busy talking on the phone. And in the middle was a group of desks-Tristan was stationed at the first one looking over paperwork until the girls arrived, Gawain has just slammed his phone down after having just been rudely dumped by his cleaning lady because he never managed to leave his cheques on time, Dagonet was typing away on his laptop and Galahad was snoozing with his feet up on the desk.

Dagonet threw a pen at the youngest MI5 Agent to wake him, and received a groan and an off handed wave of his hand in return. Dagonet rolled his eyes and shrugged at the girls.

'_Fabulous. Stuck with my ex, who is just so happen to still be in love with, his gang of friends and my own team and best friends. Just what I needed.'_

**

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Author Note: **Ok, peoples! Review. Feeling lonely!


	5. Talking

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of King Arthur, bla, bla, bla.

**Author Note: **

**Beautiful Enigma: **Men with good hygiene habits? Ha! One can only hope! Well…if they are good enough to shag I suppose they would be good eh?

**Cardeia: **I've heard of this new open bad in London where _everything_ is made if ICE! Even the glasses! You wear cloaks and coats when you go in! It's awesome!

The music in the bar was laid back, but not jazzy, I hate that stuff. I'm more of a heavy metal girl myself. I felt it as being a dark room, but really comfortable with a really snazzy bar….sorry if I didn't give it enough description. Hopefully this chapter is better.

I'm glad a managed to catch Vanora's flashback well. I wanted to show her in full emotion and pain. It's a hard time emotionally, I would imagine, so I'm glad I did it justice.

Caprichossa Pizza is the one with mushrooms and ham? Napolitana is that plain one, with cheese and sauce.

Thanks for your help on this.

**Makyala: **Is that your name? It's beautiful. I'm very glad you enjoyed that chapter.

**To all: **

Thanks for reading. Enjoy this chapter

* * *

**Talking**

**The Bus**

Ania threw her pen on her desk in frustration. She had been going over all the paper work collected by both MI5 and SIS teams on the Honorius case but could find nothing to help them with the investigation. There was nothing new. Everything that she was reading she knew already. The SIS had exhausted all the ends of trying to catch the Italian terrorist. He was too well guarded.

She looked outside of the window, trying to make her mind think of something other than work, and watched a large oak tree move with the wind. She felt so lonely at that moment. It was like everything around her was falling apart and did not want to work. She prided herself on having control over her life and how things went about around her, but right now; she knew nothing.

Tristan stood in the kitchen of the bus holding a mug of coffee in his hand. He was watching Ania staring out of the window through the gap between the door and the wall.

They were the only ones in the bus because everyone else was either at home, the office or following Anderson. He hadn't been able to string two words together since they had been left alone. It was as they didn't even know one another.

If truth had to be told, he didn't know her anymore. He'd watched her wield a gun as if it were second nature the other night; she was never an aggressive person. He knew a woman with beauty such a as hers would use her assets to complete her missions and he couldn't deny that she didn't have _assets_.

For hours he'd watched her read the papers and type notes on her computer through the corner of his eye. She had not even looked at him. It was as if she was cold.

'_What the fuck is wrong with you?'_ he asked himself as he poured his stone cold coffee in the sink.

He walked back into the office part of the bus where Ania gave him a small smile and went back to looking out of the window. "So…how have you been?" she asked him in a small voice.

He froze halfway into sitting down and looked at her. "Good," he said after a moment.

She looked at him and nodded once.

"You?" he asked, feeling it was only polite to steer the conversation to her.

"Fine, fine," she said dreamily. "As good as I can be."

He looked at his desk blankly wondering if it was his turn to say something. _'It was never this hard to talk to her!'_

'_You've got mail,'_ Ania's computer sang. She lowered her legs from on top of the desk and clicked on her inbox. It was a video message from the office.

When the file opened, Andrew Henderson's head came into view and gave his usual toothy grin. "I know you're working but you should know this. Anderson has purchased a one way ticket to Italy, Rome. The details are in the email but Gov wants me to tell you that you're going too. Call me. It's 1800 Oral."

Ania glared at the screen and clicked the exit button. "Stupid little, puffed up…" her words were drowned as the phone picked up on the other line. "I have your message."

'_Knew you'd love it,'_ Andrew said huskily. _'You're leaving in 6 hours.'_

"Where's my stuff?" Ania asked.

'_Emailing now. You have to come to the office to get your toys though.'_

Ania looked at Tristan who gave her a brief smile. "I'll be in, in half an hour. Am I flying solo?"

'_Nope. Guin is going with you. She's here preparing. Kisses.'_

"Bye, Henderson," she said into the phone.

'_By the way. What are you wearing?'_

"A chicken suit," she slurred, knowing his little game.

'_Ta ta.'_

0-0-0

**Next Morning: The bus**

Vanora sat behind her computer and watched the video feed coming directly from the airport security cameras. "Ok, Ania. I'll have full view of you on the plane and sound feed. You ready?"

'_Yes,'_ Ania said. _'Boarding now. By the way…Guin looks like a whore in her flight attendant outfit.'_

"I know," Vanora laughed. "She wanted the cheap effect."

Galahad sniggered as he typed the security codes into his computer to unlock the plane security camera.

Tristan zipped his night bag and made his way to the door. "Ready?" he asked Dagonet.

Arthur had prepared for Lancelot, Tristan and Dagonet to follow the girls to make sure nothing entirely wrong was going to happen in Italy. They would be flying by jet plane so they would arrive at the same time as the girls in the Italian airspace.

"Ready," Dagonet said as he opened the door.

Vanora winked at the guys and waved goodbye as she heard the sound of plane doors closing from her ear piece. "Make sure my girls stay safe!" she called to them.

0-0-0

**Rome, Italy: Airport**

"Feel better?" Ania asked Guinevere as she walked out of the bathroom.

"It was good to get the heels off," Guinevere muttered. "Let's go to the hotel eh?"

Ania picked up her carry back and walked with Guinevere to the airport doors where there was a man in a brown leather jacket and jeans holding up a sign that said, 'de Laurent.'

Ania approached him suspiciously and asked, "Signiore Ciccone?"

The man smiled and held out his hand. "Ciao. I'm Phillip. I can speak English."

"Oh, good. I can speak Italian," Ania said. "Badge?"

"What? Oh…yes," he said as he pulled out his secret service badge and showed her and Guinevere.

"Wonderful," Ania said happily. She was never one to go anywhere with anyone unless she knew who they were for certain, but in her line of business, you don't ever know.

0-0-0

"There they are," Dagonet pointed to the doors of the airport. "Should we follow them?"

Lancelot shrugged. "We are staying in the same hotel. Let's get a taxi and take it from there." He looked around and leaned into Tristan and Dagonet. "Do you…er…know how to speak Italian, wow." His eyes became glued to the backside of a tall attractive brunette who was standing in a very small summer dress.

Tristan closed Lancelot's mouth with his index finger and gave him the 'its-not-the-right-time-to-fuck-around' look. Lancelot composed himself and ran a hand through his hair. "Were in body heaven," Lancelot said happily.

0-0-0

**Hotel: Ania and Guinevere's shared bedrooms**

The lavishly decorated room's first blinded Ania and Guinevere when they arrived. Everything around them seemed to be hand made and painted in a time where the rich were rich and the poor were poor.

The taps in the bathrooms seemed almost untouchable to them, and the girls came from families with money! The beds were covered in sheets with silk that seemed to come from another planet. Guinevere's room was an assortment of green and purple furniture and Ania's was red, yellow and black.

Their separate bedrooms were connected to an adjoining door which led to a shared lounge room. It was a giant suite.

Ania flopped down on her bed and closed her eyes. All those hours of flying had taken their tole. She was exhausted!

She looked at the ceiling and felt the feeling come again. The alone feeling she usually had when she was alone at night, with no one to hug her. It had been that was since she left Tristan. It was not unusual for her to cry herself to sleep. It was all she had really. Memories and tears to help subside her pain.

But now working beside him was making her life 100 times harder. She had time to think of this on the plane.

"Ania?" Guinevere asked softly as she walked into her room. She heard sniffing sound and the movement of bed sheets and ran into the room and onto the bed. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Ania said tearfully. "No. I'm not!"

"It's okay," Guinevere told her softly as she hugged her cousin tightly. "You'll be alright Ania. Its only for this assignment."

"But we can't even be in the same room together," she said through her tears. "There's that…uncomfortable silence and I hate it!"

Guinevere kissed her hair. "Its going to be okay. Maybe…you might even get a chance to get back together because of this."

"It'll never happen, Guin," Ania said softly. "It's over because I was too stupid to listen when he asked me to!"

0-0-0

**London**

"Yeh' hungry, Van?" Bors asked uncertainly.

Vanora looked up from her computer and pulled off her glasses. "Starving," she said, smiling shyly.

Bors scratched his head and asked, "You wanna get something to eat?"

"Okay," she said quickly. "I'm in the mood for chicken."

Bors grinned. "Right O."

They arrived at a restaurant a short while later, Vanora had her phone on the whole time just in case her 'girls' called. Bors sat down after pulling Vanora's chair out for her and looked at the menu. _'Damn London restaurants. What's Brusscetta?'_

He glanced at Vanora who smiled at him kindly before going back to her own menu and picked the first thing he knew would taste good.

"Beef burger, thanks," he said to the waiter. "And a cold one."

The waited looked at him oddly before looking to Vanora to see if she would 'interpret.'

"Beer," she said under her breath to the waiter. "I'll have the mushroom chicken and a house red. Thankyou."

She and Bors shared a moment of uncertain silence before Bors managed to clear his throat and ask, "So…how have…you been?"

"Good," she smiled and bit her lip. "You? I suppose you must be busy because of…you know."

"Yeh'," he scratched his head, smiling sheepishly. "You know. I'm the field agent so…I get to knock a few heads."

Vanora giggled. "I was never built for it. Ania and Guinevere go the killing for me."

"So you don't hold a gun?" he asked.

"Yes." She nodded quickly. "I do but I don't use it."

"So how are the girls? I feel the tension in the room when Tristan and Ania are in the room," he said, flashing a toothy grin. "He should get his act together."

Vanora arched and eyebrow. "Yes, he should."

Bors realised where her words were going. What could he do now? It had been over between them for years. Would it work now that they were fully grown adults? "Listen, Van," he began.

"No Bors," she interrupted. "I just want you to know, before you say anything, that…I have no regrets about breaking up. My life has turned out how I wanted it – maybe I pictured you in it before we broke up but…," she bit her lip and leaned forward slightly, "I'm happy. And I'm _so_ glad you invited us to your birthday party. It was really sweet."

"Well hopefully we'll be able to have it when they get back eh'?" he asked happily. "I'm happy with my life too Van. I know that your decision worked out for the best _really_ but I can't deny that I was hurt in the beginning. But I've…moved on, since then."

"You're seeing someone?" she asked, trying her best to sound excited.

"Yeah," he said casually. He watched her eyes look uncertain and her cheeks flush. "For a while now."

"That's great!" she said. "I'm really happy for you. I was hoping you would be able to."

"And you?" he asked her.

"Oh, no," she said, laughing a little. "I'm far too busy. It hasn't even entered my mind." She chuckled and tapped her head.

Bors' heart sank. _'She's so beautiful.'_

0-0-0

**The Bus**

Arthur threw his tea spoon into the kitchen sink and carried his mug of coffee to his desk. He watched his Windows XP screen saver on the screen dreamily as he leaned back in his desk chair.

Vanora and Bors were out to dinner, Galahad and Gawain were out to a soccer match, on call of course, and everyone else was in Italy. He was alone; as usual.

He and Guinevere had managed to talk in private before they began working together. They made it clear to one another that they were not harbouring feelings of guilt or anger toward the other. It was important to Arthur to make sure that she was alright with working with him. They did, after all, have a past to deal with. A past that would be better off left as a past but…they were adults now and things could be worked on again.

Arthur groaned and rubbed his forehead. "What a life," he sighed.

Arthur and Guinevere had a kind of…love hate relationship during their years in primary school. They could be the best of friends at times, but then they would be wrestling and trying to bring the other person as much pain as possible. It changed, of course, in high school when they began seeing one another when they turned 16. It wasn't all roses.

When she found out he had slept with Isolde, the school tramp, who had had it off with every man in the school she was heartbroken.

He could still remember her screams. How she told him she'd never been so humiliated in her life and that she wouldn't have minded so much if he had slept with her _before_ they were together.

Arthur sipped his coffee. He and his friends had never had much luck with the women they loved. What was the point of having love if it was going to be ripped away from you because of one, stupid act of selfish lust?

0-0-0

**Vanora and Bors' Location: Restaurant**

"Thanks, Bors," Vanora breathed as she stepped into the chilly night air. She pulled her coat around her tightly and smiled. "It was wonderful."

"I'm glad I get to see you again," he told her truthfully. "I'm happy you moved on Van."

"Me too Bors," she said softly. She looked into his eyes, longing for him to say something stupid, the way he always used to.

Bors put a hand on her arm and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning. I'm staying with Arthur in the bus."

Vanora laughed. "Slumber party. Have fun then."

Bors snorted. "Right. Bye Vanora."

"Goodbye Bors."

She walked to her car and closed the door. She threw her keys on the dashboard before locking the door impatiently. Tears came to her eyes and she pinched her nose trying to hold them back. "I know how you feel Ania," she said to herself.

She knew what it was like to see someone you loved, and were still in love with, after all this time and have to hide those feelings. And he was seeing someone! Well, could she expect him to have waited for her? No.

0-0-0

**Italy: Tristan's Room**

Dagonet plugged his laptop into the power point and sat down on the couch beside Tristan. He downed a glass of brandy.

Tristan scratched his forehead as he vaguely listened to the mandolin music playing outside in the hotel courtyard. He hadn't been able to think of anything but sex since he arrived in Italy. Sex and Ania. This equalled; problem.

Lancelot stood on the balcony watching the women of the hotel laughing and dancing with the fast music as everyone ate and drank. It was a completely different lifestyle to that of the one he was used to. If the women in England danced the way these women it…well…they'd get a lot of action, he thought.

"What the-" he muttered as he watched two incredibly beautiful brunettes walk out into the court yard. "Hey!" he hissed to Tristan and Dag. "Look at this."

Both men jumped off their seats and walked steadily to his side. "It's Ania and Guinevere. Nice dress," he added as he noticed Ania's red dress.

Tristan gapped at his ex girlfriend who was smiling and laughing with some of the men in the courtyard. What a dress! What a body! He turned from the balcony and went to the ice bucket by the alcohol. He needed something very cold.

He dragged the ice over his forehead as the sound of a smirk filled his ears. Lancelot stood by the balcony doors looking at him with a smug expression. "You still love her don't you?"

Dagonet turned slightly and looked at the two before turning back to the courtyard and looking at Guinevere and Ania.

"Yes," Tristan snapped. "Now shut up."

"Why don't you go to her?" he asked indignantly.

Tristan glared at him and wiped his wet hands on his shirt. "It's not that simple."

"Yes," Lancelot laughed, "it is!"

Tristan stalked out of the room in fury, slamming to door behind him.

"Well!" Lancelot breathed as he put his hands on his hips.

0-0-0

**The Court Yard**

"Guin!" Ania shouted.

She spun around and around trying to find her cousin but could not find any sign of her. "Guinevere!" she screamed in to the crowd.

Everyone began to look at her curiously as she searched the crowd. "Guinevere!"

Still there was no answer. Ania went inside the hotel and stood at the front desk. She pulled out her badge and said, "Lock down the hotel."

"Is there a problem?" the man asked her casually.

"I said, lock down the hotel! No one goes out and no one gets in!" she shouted.

Seeing her anger the hotel manager picked up the phone and began making orders. Ania pulled her phone from her hand bag and called London's office of the SIS. "This is Agent S. Pin code: 152292567. We have a missing Agent. Requesting backup."

'_Hold on Agent S,'_ said the telephone secretary. _'Patching you through.'_

Ania tapped her foot impatiently and sent the hotel manager a glare asking him of everything was in order. He nodded quickly.

"Gov! Guinevere had been kidnapped!"

'_What do you mean?'_ he shouted over the line.

"I don't know how it happened," she said urgently. "She was with me one second and then next she was gone!"

"Okay," he breathed. "Keep it calm. There are MI5 agents with you there."

"What!" she growled. "Where? Who?"

"You'll see. They have orders to help you now," he said calmly. "Keep me updated."

"Alright," she sighed and slammed her phone closed. She looked at the hotel manager. "I want every single staff manager down here in five minutes."

"But Madam-"

"NOW!" she ordered.

**

* * *

Author Note: **So Guinevere is missing. Review please!


	6. Lost in Translation

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of King Arthur. This story and all of its contents is purely fictional. Not the MI5 or SIS of course but…you know what I mean.

**Author Note: **

**Beautiful Enigma: **Yes Tristan is a sexy beast. I'm sorry we don't see more of Arthur in this chapter but…I'll try to put him in the next one. Enjoy.

**Cardeia: **Glad you liked it. It was hard with the scene between Ania and Tristan but I got through it. Things move on in this chapter but I leave room for disaster as you'll see.

I needed to put that bit with Vanora and Bors in there because I couldn't let everything go smoothly. What kind of story would that be? lol.

I had to give him that simple feel. I can't see him as anything more than that. He'd make a great governor. 'Smirk'.

I think Ania acted in the heat of the moment when Guinevere was kidnapped. I don't think I'd scream a code name if my cousin was being kidnapped.

Enjoy this chapter.

**_All right readers, don't kill me at the end of this chapter. Someone might die, someone might not…I'll see on my mood. Review. _**

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* * *

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**Lost in translation**

Ania yanked open the door of her bedroom. She glared at the three men standing before her, letting them know they are neither welcome nor at any point going to be appreciated, before letting them into her hotel suite.

They all walked in silently and made their way into the living room. Ania slammed the door closed, further adding to their assumption of her being, 'pissed off.'

"I've locked down the hotel," she said matter-of-factly. "All the residents have been stationed in their hotel rooms until further notice and all staff have been placed in a holding room where the international base of SIS are taking statements about what they have or have not seen. What are you doing here?"

"Well," Lancelot began, inwardly cringing at the furious expression on her face, "Arthur…sent us to make sure nothing-"

"We were backup," Dagonet interrupted. "You weren't supposed to know we were here because we were supposed to watch and make sure no one was following or intercepting your mission."

Ania raised her eyebrows. "Well you obviously didn't do your job. I've been working on this case for over a year. I've seen the photo's of what happens to people who end up in the hands of Honorius and I can tell you…it's not pretty."

"We might know where she is," Tristan said patiently. He opened his computer and speedily typed in his password. "There is a base in the dodgy part of Rome, where fashion designers hold underground launches and parties which usually involve under age models drinking and taking drugs. Honorius is said to have an in with one of the groups."

"How do you expect to get in?" she asked.

Lancelot looked her up and down. "Ever been on the catwalk?"

0-0-0

**London: The bus**

Vanora frantically bustled around the bus trying to put together all the papers and software together so she could watch the interception of the coming mission.

Ania had just called through, telling her of the current situation and their plan. Ania was to go undercover as an up and coming model to perform in Adalento Vizzini's latest fashion launch.

Marius Honorius, being the show off he was, would almost certainly be at the launch. It was then that the team would arrest him, supposing that all went to plan. "Ania, you've modelled before. This will be easy for you," she said breathlessly as she sat down behind the desk.

"_No one else knows that," _Ania said patiently. _"I just want to get Guin back."_

"I know, were working on it. Alright?"

"_Yeah,"_ Ania sighed. _"Bye, Van."_

Vanora put down the phone and looked at Arthur. He was sitting behind his desk making the connections of the underground security camera facility. Galahad put a hand on her shoulder, taking her out the depths of her thoughts and handed her a mug of coffee. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him.

He smiled at her and said, "Everything's going to be alright, Van."

"I hope so, Galahad," she answered, staring into the mug.

Bors rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Ever since taking Vanora out to dinner the other night he had not been able to string two intelligent words together. He couldn't help but stare as she sat behind her desk, beautiful as she was.

'_Beautiful,'_ he scolded. _'What am I? A pudgy MI5 agent, that's what!'_

He sighed silently and looked back to his computer screen. This was not going to be an easy task.

0-0-0

"Darling!"

Ania stepped back from her door and let her guests in. After coming to the conclusion that it was she who would be going undercover on the mission she called her uncle and his life long partner, Agador and William. "Hey uncle," she said, turning around with a slight smile.

Agador, wearing a pink jacket and jeans, looked around the room happily and smiled at Ania after a quick assessment. "We've been called into action!" he said. "Come on! You have to tell me what this for!"

William, wearing a leopard skin shirt and cream pants, patted her arm and gave her his 'you-asked-for-it' look.

True – her uncle was very…open…about his life and love for design. Which is why he became a designer. One of the highest and most called for in Italy.

"I have some people for you to meet first," Ania said. She led them into the lounge room where Tristan was working at his computer, Lancelot was taking a drink by the windows and Dagonet was sitting on the couch reading. "Uncle Will, uncle Agador," she said, announcing her presence to the men. "This is Tristan, Dagonet and Lancelot."

Agador looked at his niece in shock. The tanned foundation on his face became more noticeable in the lounge room lights and Dagonet and Tristan shared a knowing look. These men were gay.

"All of them? Here? In your room?" he asked her.

"What?" Ania asked. "No!" she scolded upon realising where his mind was going. "I work with them."

"Doing what, dear?" Agador asked, looking at Tristan with an air of indifference.

"Work," she said in a tone which told him she was not going to elaborate. "I need you to…help with something."

Both men raised their eyebrows and looked at the other three men in the room.

"Do you know Adalento Vizzini?" she asked them, trying to catch their attention.

Agador tapped his mouth with his index finger and arched an eyebrow. "Yes," he droned. "He's just a phone call away. Which one are you sleeping with?"

Lancelot gave a loud snort and after receiving a glare from Tristan quickly turned it into a chocking cough.

"None of them!" Ania said. "Look…in need for you to get me into his show."

Agador laughed. "Honey, remember when you broke up with that boyfriend of yours a few years ago? Well I told you to get into modelling but you refused! Why do you want to start now?"

Tristan and Ania looked at one another uncomfortably, Lancelot handed her a glass of whisky. This was going to be a nightmare.

She downed it quickly as William sat down on the couch opposite Tristan and Dagonet. He looked at Tristan with narrowed eyes. He knew this man from somewhere.

"I just need you to get me into the show," Ania said to her uncle. "Can you do it?"

"Of course!" Agador pulled out his phone. "Just a minute."

'_Thank the Gods.'_ Ania looked at William; Lancelot snatched the glass from her hand a poured more drink in there before downing it. "You never told me your uncle was gay!" he hissed.

"Who cares?" she demanded softly. "He does his job, he's a fag so who cares!"

Lancelot glared at her. "Have you seen what gay men do?"

"No, I'm straight so why would I?" she asked him, taking the glass from his hand and filling it.

Lancelot didn't bother with the glass this time. He just put the bottle in his mouth and took a mouthful.

Tristan looked at William for a moment before looking back to his screen. _'Bloody fags. Not only do I have to work with my ex, I have to be around gay men.'_

Dagonet leaned back on the couch and looked at Ania from the corner of his eye. She was standing uncomfortably, near the wall looking at the floor. He nudged Tristan with his knee and cocked his head toward the exhausted woman. Tristan looked at Ania and sighed. He knew he had to say something to her.

"Done!" Agador said, re-entering the room. "You're in the show."

"Just like that?" Ania asked. "He doesn't even know what I look like!"

William laughed. "Everyone knows what you look like. Agador keeps a whole photo album of photos in his handbag."

Agador smiled. "Never mind, dear," he said, patting her shoulder. "You're so far away all the time so I have to have something with me."

"A whole photo album?" William asked. He shrugged. "Anyway-"

"Will you be there?" she asked them.

"Of course!" Agador said, looking hurt. "Well…see you there then. I'll send details to your email."

"Okay," she said, leading them back to the door. "Bye."

0-0-0

A few hours after Agador and William left, Lancelot lay sleeping on the couch and Dagonet dozing lightly beside him.

Ania had gone to her room a while ago to rest but was finding it hard to sleep because Tristan was in the next room.

A still, calming silence was around Tristan was he sat, cross legged on the balcony. He looked out onto the patio where Guinevere had been kidnapped and before long closed his eyes. This job was getting to him. Everything was prepared for the mission but he felt uneasy knowing Ania was going to be the one inside.

Why was he worried? He'd seen her in action before. She knew how to fight and shoot a gun just like he did, but it didn't stop his worry. He needed a fix; badly. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to get away from the thought because if he dwelled on it, it is most likely he would be purchasing the weed and smoking it before the hour was new.

The curtains to the patio moved aside and Ania walked out. "Tristan?"

He looked up at her, shocked to hear her calling his name. She smiled at him nervously and sat down beside him. She crossed her legs underneath her and leaned back against the wall. "H...how have you been?" she asked, looking at her hands.

He looked down at her, his face blank of emotion, and relaxed. "Fine."

She did not lift her head, but her eyes looked ahead of her and closed. "Good," she said softly. She sat in silence for a moment before trying to make conversation again, "How long have you been an agent?"

"Three and a half years," he said. "You?"

"The same," she said. She looked at him briefly and gave a small smile. She had nothing left to say. She had run out of…obvious questions to ask, trying to make conversation and was now stuck out here with a man who didn't want to look at her let alone speak.

Tristan looked at her from the corner of his eye and scolded himself for being so cold. It was this hard years ago, before they dated, but it shouldn't be this way now.

**Flashback:**

Ania sat on her favourite sofa by the fire in the library of the castle. She pulled out a purple folder and stored one of the many papers on her lap into the folder before putting it back on the arm rest. She'd been studying for hours for the test she had the next morning. Guinevere was in her room sleeping, as per usual, and Vanora was out with Bors, again. Which left her alone to study, which she was thankful for, and she was doing really well until Tristan decided to walk into the library and take her thoughts away from where they should be. That was more than two hours ago.

Isolde sent Ania a glare from the opposite side of the room and unbuttoned her school shirt to the fourth button. Ania rolled her eyes and gave her the finger before retuning to her work.

Tristan, who kept his head down the whole time, noticed the silent messages between the girls and smiled to himself. He'd never seen Ania do something vulgar in public, and he had to admit, he liked that side of her.

She rose from her seat, pulling her skirt down behind her, and pulled out a book from the shelf.

Lancelot pranced into the library just as Ania was sitting down and walked to where Tristan was sitting. "Why aren't you sitting by the fire with that lovely creature?" he whispered, sitting down opposite Tristan and cocking his head in Ania's direction.

"I came here to study," Tristan muttered, "not fuck around."

Lancelot smirked. "You don't do that very much though, do you?"

Tristan glared at him and continued to write his essay on 'English war and where it has brought us'. A tedious job in his opinion. Who cares about where war brought the English people? This is something Arthur would be interested in, not him.

It wasn't until the next day, that things between Ania and Tristan began to take a turn.

The boys had decided that for the weekend that they were going to go to one of the underground clubs in London. Lancelot, being the part goer of them all decided it was best to go to 'Cradle', one of the rowdiest clubs in all of Britain.

The thumping dance music pumped in Tristan's ears as he stepped past the bouncers. He felt the floor moving beneath him and his heartbeat going in sync with the beat. He followed Dagonet, who was leading the group to the bar; where he knew he would be all night. He didn't like to dance.

He sat down and ordered a beer. The voluptuous bartender smiled at him and went to take his order as Lancelot began to work his magic on the dance floor. Galahad quickly began flirting with the bar tender who had just given Tristan his beer while Arthur sat quietly beside him until Bors and Lancelot pulled him to the dance floor to 'meet some babes'.

Half an hour past with Tristan going through three beers and a tequila shot. A woman wearing a short blue dress and high heels arrived at the bar beside him and asked the bartender for some ice. The bartender looked at her knowingly and handed the ice bucket over to her. She was about turn away when she stoped and shouted over the loud music, "Tristan?"

He looked at her and almost did a double take. The 'little' blue dress was snug over her curves and making her tanned skin glow in the neon lights. She smiled at him and he nodded in greeting. "Taking a good break from 'The benefits of Democracy in the 21st Century?" she asked, referring to the essay they were assigned to write by their least favourite Professor.

He gave a tiny smile and nodded, twirling the beer bottle on the bench. "Yeah. What are you doing here?"

Ania looked at the ice bucket and looked hastily to the side of the room. "Guinevere's as drunk as a skunk," she said with a laugh. "I have to get her home but not before sobering her up a bit."

"Do you need a ride?" he asked loudly, trying to overthrow the music and not knowing where the words were coming from.

She shook her head. "I have my car, thanks though." She cringed as she watched Guinevere stumble as she tried to get to her feet. "I have to go. I'll see you later though. Bye."

He lifted his hand in goodbye. His heart leapt as she looked back to him when she walked to Guinevere.

**End of Flashback**

0-0-0

Ania woke up with the feeling of a heavy arm over her body. Her eyes snapped open in shock. She lifted her head and looked around the messy room which was littered with the disposed clothes of her and the man lying beside her.

The memory of the previous night rushed back into her mind as she looked at Tristan's sleeping face.

After the uncomfortable silence he asked her…something…she couldn't remember right at this moment…but, she answered and before she knew it she was kissing him madly as he wrapped his arms around her.

They both stumbled into the lounge room where they looked around in worry because Lancelot and Dagonet had been there and sighed when the coast was clear. They had gone to their own beds to sleep. They stumbled into her room, ripping of their clothes, and…the rest is history.

She rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. Tristan shifted and opened his eyes for a second before closing them and wrapping his arms tighter around her body. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. "This job would be easier if Guinevere was here," she muttered.

Tristan lazily stroked her arm in a silent response. "Are you sorry? About what we did?"

"No," she answered, very sure of herself. "This isn't going into my report though."

She chuckled sleepily and Tristan smiled at her sardonic humour. "I'll keep it out of mine."

It was going to take a little while for things to go back to normal but she'd been alone too long and loved him to much to let it go again.

Ania groaned half an hour later when her phone rang. She detangled herself from Tristan and fumbled around on the floor beside her bed and found her phone. She lay back down on Tristan's chest and answered it.

"_Ania?"_

She sat up quickly. "Guinevere? Where are you?"

She heard a sniffling sound and a tearful chocking noise before she said, _"I don't know. I'm being held hostage by Honorius himself." _

Tristan sat up and looked at Ania, waiting calmly to find out what was being said. "Honorius is holding her," Ania told him. Tristan rose from the bed and pulled on his pants. He had to collect Lancelot and Dagonet.

The voice Ania heard next on the phone, was not Guinevere's. _"Greetings Miss Laurent,"_ said an accented voice.

"Who are you?" she asked, pulling on her clothes as she spoke.

"_You know who I am, you've been chasing me for three years, my dear,"_ he said coyly.

"What are you going to do with Guinevere?" Ania asked, she walked out of her room pulling on her shirt.

"_Keep her," _he answered after a moment. He smirked into the phone and said huskily, _"Do you want to join her? We could have such fun you and I-"_

"Fuck you!"

"_I still might,"_ he said calmly. _"I know I'd be better than say…Tristan Schiller?"_

Ania looked up as Lancelot stumbled sleepily into the room with Tristan. "How do you know about that?" she asked into the phone.

"_I know as much about you, as you do of me,"_ he hissed. _"And that is a lot pretty woman so if I was you I would not be in that fashion show tomorrow."_

Dagonet loaded his computer to scan the calls frequency so he could track down where the caller was calling from. He held up a hand which mean he was asking for five more seconds. Ania nodded and asked, "And what if I don't?"

Honorius laughed. _"Then agent Luchlan isn't going to see another day."_

The line went dead.

"Got him," Dagonet exclaimed. "He's in the building."

Ania looked at the men in shock. Tristan was the first to react. He handed Ania a gun and opened the door to the room. Dagonet led the way up the stairs to room 23.

Ania followed Tristan, holding her gun close to her chest, and motioned the all clear for Dagonet to open the door to the room. Lancelot looked down the steps and saw doors opening. He motioned for them to go back in their rooms after brandishing his badge. Dagonet kicked the door open and ran inside. Tristan followed calmly and Ania stood in the door way.

"This is too easy," she said to herself.

Dagonet stood in the middle of the room and lowered his gun. "There is no one here!"

Ania heard the noise of something ticking and gasped. She looked behind the door and stared at the bright red numbers which were counting down the seconds to zero. 4 seconds to go…

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**Author Note: **Sorry about the cliffie.


	7. Bang Bang

**Bang Bang**

Tristan took hold of Ania and pulled her further into the room. Dagonet jumped into the next room and closed the door behind Tristan who threw Ania into the room in front of him.

And then it went off. The bang of the bomb echoed through Ania's ears as the apartment blew up around them. Tristan covered Ania with his own body like a cocoon while Dagonet lay on his stomach with his hands above his head.

All around them was rouble from the blast once the sound stoped. Suddenly everything was silent. A distant screaming reached Ania's ears as she moved her head from Tristan's chest.

Tristan immediately realised the sound had stoped but underneath him, so had Ania. He put his hand to her face only to have her looking at him silently and worriedly. He rose from the ground steadily and put his hand on Dagonets shoulder.

Dagonet groaned as he rolled onto his back. "Ania," he rasped.

Tristan nodded. "She's right here."

Dagonet got to his feet and saw Ania standing on a pile of rouble, covered in white dust herself. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Better than others, I'm sure," she said, heading to the front rooms which were now demolished. "Jesus," she whispered once seeing the ruins.

All the rooms around them had been blasted into smithereens by the blast. By the size of the destruction she realised it had not been a huge bomb but enough to kill innocents and give MI5&6 a warning.

Lancelot ran into the room, his face ashen white and his shirt ripped apart. "We've got three dead civilian's," he said breathlessly.

"Are you okay?" Ania asked him.

Lancelot nodded and wiped the sweat from his face. "I've just got online with MI5- we are to leave immediately and head back to London. We never came."

"What about Guinevere?" Dagonet asked him.

Lancelot shook his head. "They are handling it. For now…we have to disappear."

Tristan walked out from the wreckage where armed soldiers were now arriving. "Five minutes," he said commandingly. "Then we are out of here."

"What about Guinevere?" Ania protested, following him into their rooms which had not been touched by the blast.

Tristan didn't stop to answer her. "You heard Lancelot," he said bluntly.

"I'm not leaving her," Ania told him.

"Do what you're ordered Ania," he said calmly, throwing his computer into his holder. "Make life easy on yourself for _once_."

"I am making life easy for myself!" she yelled. "I'm not leaving without her so you go!"

Ania walked out of the room and to her own. She slammed the door closed behind her only to have it open again with Tristan letting himself in. "You're coming with me even if I have to drug you and put you on the plane myself," he said, going into her room and pulling out her bags.

Ania tried to take it off him but he was too quick for her. "Give it to me!" she ordered.

Tristan stuffed all her clothes inside the bag and carried it, unzipped and half open, into his own room. "You can't order me about now give me about now-"

Her phone rang. Tristan looked down at the bag in his hands and tipped it upside down. Ania bent over and picked up her fallen phone.

'_Ania!'_

"Van…did you hear?"

'_Of course I heard! Get on the plane and come home.'_

"But-"

'_Please Ania…come home.'_

0-0-0

**MI5 Jet**

Tristan walked down the single isle of the jet plane toward Ania. She was sitting alone and in the corner. Lancelot and Dagonet were on the other side sleeping in the beds.

Ania lifted her head from her hands only Tristan giggled the glass in front of her. He sat down opposite her once she took the whisky from him and waited for her to drink it. "She could be dead," she said after drinking it all in one.

"Don't think about it," he said calmly, "it wouldn't hurt so much."

Ania have a haunting, dead chuckle as she looked out of the window. "Your answer for everything. 'Don't think about it.'"

"It works," he replied irritably.

Ania looked at him. "Well, I'm a thinker. It's how I got my job."

With a huff she rose and headed to one of the bunk rooms at the very end of the plane. She closed the door behind her and flopped onto the bed in exhaustion. The bombing had been all over the Italian and International news within fifteen minutes of the blast. Luckily for them, the transportation had arrived and gone mere minutes before the news arrived at the blocked off scene.

Everyone wanted answers but no one had them. Even so it would be weeks and maybe months until they found the cause and tracked the bombers. How would Guinevere stay alive until then? Why did they have to go back to London so quickly?

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**Author Note:** Sorry its so short but its an update. Should have more along soon.


End file.
